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by Aliada



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Drabble, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Which is of course totally suitable for Mitchell, With Anders' unique version of comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23501395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aliada/pseuds/Aliada
Summary: Mitchell couldn’t help but wonder, how many times he was yet to be accepted and forgiven. He didn’t ask these questions lightly, but somehow they never turned into fears. And if they did, the solid core of certainty behind Anders’ eyes made them disappear for good.
Relationships: Anders Johnson/John Mitchell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarigoldVance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldVance/gifts).



> This is a Raffle prize for the incredible MarigoldVance who wanted something with Mitchell finally finding his certainty, and his home, with Anders. Thank you for this highly inspirational prompt and I hope you enjoy the outcome! *massive hug*

It was all a dream. Tear-stained faces of his friends. Their trembling voices. A stake going through his skin and right into his heart, causing a quick, sharp pain that was, however, no match for the long agony of slow oblivion stealing his mind piece by piece.

No one cried after killing a vampire, but they did. And it was probably the best he could hope for. His twisted, but undeniably justified best.

It was all a dream but it also wasn’t. It made him groan with relief as he awakened, and yet the inescapable truth of it never stopped burning, sucking out last bits of enjoyment from his days.

It was all a dream but it couldn’t have shown his future more eloquently.

Anders didn’t console him, or told him that everything was, or would be, okay. Neither was the truth, and Anders’ untruthful Bragi side was, as ever, silent in Mitchell presence. Instead, Anders was doing something different. He smiled and joked, and told his bigger-than-life stories , knowing exactly that Mitchell didn’t believe a word of them and somehow managing to melt off his biggest scowls in the process. He treated his days as a chance to do better. Somehow, in his demonstrative non-normalcy, he managed to become a definition of a carefree, self-aware normalcy. It wasn’t really a drug, but Mitchell was intoxicated anyway. For the first time in his life, he was no longer a simple guy John Mitchell or a not-at-all-simple vampire. Deprived of lies and condemnation, these two had finally merged together.

He missed his friends, and all the years they might have still had. But he also felt an immense relief at letting them go. Anders didn’t dismiss or nurture his nostalgia. Instead, he simply took him back, again and again. Sometimes, Mitchell couldn’t help but wonder, how many times he was yet to be accepted and forgiven. He didn’t ask these questions lightly, but somehow they never turned into fears. And if they did, the solid core of certainty behind Anders’ eyes made them disappear for good.

Anders didn’t justify his actions and didn’t coddle him when he was in the wrong. They fought and argued, but never allowed grudges. Mitchell didn’t even think he could physically keep one after looking at Anders’ laughing face. He knew he was played with, but it was a relatively smile prize to pay for earning a chance at a day, as little a _single_ day free of conflicting feelings struggling for domination in his head.

Anders didn’t say any big words (which was rather uncommon of him), but he was surprisingly tireless in showing Mitchell that this version of home wasn’t just one more rush-induced illusion. Instead, it was as real as their reality could possibly be.


End file.
